grub vs. grub

It's been nearly 20 years since the Midwest's best German restaurant closed its doors to the adoring masses, only to reopen a year later in a pared-down version of its historic self.

Anyone who knows a schnitzel about Chicago food is aware that The Berghoff, 17 W. Adams St., was until 2006 one of the busiest restaurants in the city due to its incredible menu, professional wait staff that used restaurant-specific currency, and an incredible bar that received the first post-prohibition liquor license in the city. Greasefreak dutifully qeued up to the bar's famed carving station day after day, ordering delicious cod, turkey, corned beef, roast beef, meatloaf, and sauerbraten sandwiches. My old standby, though, was the exquisite veal bratwurst, split lengthwise and served with sauerkraut on rye bread. I'd add a little Dusseldorf mustard, squeeze into a tight spot at the bar, and lunch elbow-to-elbow with other blissful diners.

Although the Berghoff was dismissed from Greasefreak's lunch rotation ages ago, the brat resurfaces every few years with mixed results. Alas:

2006 TASTE: PRESENTATION: AMBIENCE: The hot, savory flavors from the veal intermingle with the cool, sour juices from the kraut, resulting in an exquisite taste and divine texture. The carvers and sandwich makers appear to relish their jobs, coyly smiling behind the counter while expertly stabbing brats from below a heat lamp, slicing them perfectly in half and adding kraut with a flourish. The line starts on the sidewalk but the wait is worth it.

2009 TASTE: PRESENTATION: AMBIENCE: The bar is now called 17 West at The Berghoff, where a surprisingly youthful carving station attendant called me "dude" and nonchalantly assembled my brat. It largely tasted the same but was served at room temperature and lacked a snap. Still, it's a fine lunchtime dining experience and the real plate is a nice touch.

2012 TASTE: PRESENTATION: AMBIENCE: The hearty, oval rye bread has been replaced by pale slices of square bread that, for my order, was lopsidedly halved and seemingly forgot its sauerkraut companion. So much very German precision.

2015 TASTE: PRESENTATION: AMBIENCE: With the carving station recently replaced by high-top tables, brat orders are placed with the barkeep, who hands you a number on a stick for servers to know your location, even when you're the only person at the bar. The pretzel roll is more of a distraction than a taste sensation and I make a mental note to request rye if I ever return.

2019 TASTE: PRESENTATION: AMBIENCE: The bar's ownership has shifted within the family and the bar is now called the Adams Street Brewery, which features an on-site microbrewery that produces a tasty Dunkel. Despite other upgrades, it's 2009 all over again with oval bread but listless kraut. Pickle is a welcome addition. Clearly satisfying for the random out-of-towners that appear to be enjoying themselves.

2021 TASTE: PRESENTATION: AMBIENCE: Unsliced, off-kilter rye bread slices reveal nothing about what lurks between, haplessly observed by a disapproving mustard packet. But after a year of Covid lockdown, the sandwich satisfies like it's 2006. Braaap!

2024 TASTE: PRESENTATION: AMBIENCE: Consistency is generally a good thing when it comes to restaurants, thus, the pale bread slices, understated kraut, weak pickle spear and lukewarm brat are setting new standards that cater to my need for predictability. Lunch is a far cry from the cultural delight that was the old place, but with only a handful of old places still standing in the Loop, who's complaining. Riiight??